We are feeling a little goofy today. We don’t know why and might not even be sure what that means. After spending yesterday in the bog…no, that should be swamps, not forgetting the mud and slippery slopes, perhaps the mind needs realignment. In fact, for the first time ever, we thought of informing our editor that she should sleep on the couch. Then we had a re-think. We would be the loser. We could not bear the idea of not sharing her bed. We decided to give her another chance and trust that she will choose wisely in future. Actually, we liked the experience very much, the hike—we are only trying to build ‘some capital’ in the ‘unlikely event’ that we upset her in the future.
We enjoyed five hikes this week, each one in a completely different environment. As this is a small island, that is quite something. Today we planned to take it easy and headed for the beach with a view to taking a long walk. It ended up being somewhat of an amazing hike along the beach cliffs, joining the golf course for three holes and ending nestled in a beach cave we found. The views and atmosphere were unbelievable so it became more than just a walk.
“A real white African,” uttered black cowboy, Celluloise John Wayne Jay, also known as CJ. We got talking with this real friendly dude who called it as it is. We like that. We’re not into this nonsense of corrupting the language and ourselves as the “p.c. crowd” do. Can you say Geronimo, Mr. President? Maybe we were feeling a little funky. We don’t know what that means either but it too, sounds good.
We positioned ourselves in the cave to watch the waves pounding the cliffs. It is an awesome sight—blue shades of water fighting the rocks. After a while we thought about the struggle occurring before our eyes. We presume that when we are not there, the battle continues but we can’t be sure. However, we wouldn’t be surprised to find one day that the cliffs have had enough and begin a major fight back. We almost feel sorry for the waves.
It was good to back on the golf course. We even chatted with a golfer who happened to be from Orange County, an hour up the road from our former home. For old time sake, we decided to play the hole. We called upon our former skills to ‘hit’ a massive drive, some 320 yards into a stiff breeze, followed by a great 3-iron within a few feet of the pin and knocked in the putt for an eagle. Wow! It nice to know that a person still has it, we thought smugly. Then again, we have always played a lot better in our mind than on the links.
We returned to the beach, a lot more experienced after our Maui visit. Previously, we thought the bathers were undressed, especially the women, because of the heat. Of course, we don’t notice these women but our modestly dressed editor mentioned it. We have a different understanding now. We think it is all about the recession. It’s a shame but many families have been hard hit by economic circumstances that the women can only afford a piece of string and maybe an eye-patch sized piece of material. We feel so bad that we wanted to hand out some money. Our editor was not too pleased with the idea. She mentioned that she would give us a different perspective when we returned home. We welcome that as we realize we don’t always understand how the world functions.
There is, however, one thing of which we are certain. We are so fond of our editor that if we were not married to her, we would ask her to marry again, ask for ‘her hand’, the one without the ‘red editorial pen’.
It was a bit of a goofy day.
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